The Gates of Erebor
by literaturelife7
Summary: A fic looking at what was going on during the time Bilbo was conversing with Smaug. From the POV of Bilbo and Thorin (and later Smaug). A fun story written for a college assignment with only mild angst.
1. Introduction

**This is a story I wrote as an assignment for a college lit. class. I had the coolest professor ever who had us write Tolkien fanfiction. This is mine (I'll be editing and publishing in multiple chapters). **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, this setting etc. Tolkien does. **

Note: Bilbo Baggins had chronicled his journeys in _There and Back Again _aka _The Hobbit. _But, as he admitted in _The Lord of the Rings_, he changed some details. The book is from his perspective. What follows is an account from the gates of Erebor from the perspectives of Thorin and Bilbo separate from the book. While the key events remain the same the thoughts and dialogue of the characters is slightly different. It is another perspective of an important event in _The Hobbit_. I have, however, tried to remain as true to Tolkien's original work as possible while still adding my own creative touches (like an epic game of "hide and seek" between the dwarves).

The landscape was dark and gray; one had only to look upon it to see that a terrible evil had once befallen it. There was a nearby lake; somewhat dingy as if a shadow loomed over it. There was a cluttered settlement on its shore. Nearby were the ruins of an old city: Dale. There were legends whispered of what had befallen the doomed city many years before. Looming over this desolate landscape was a lone majestic mountain. It seemed to rise up out of nowhere like a dignified being in an impoverished court. It was rightly nicknamed The Lonely Mountain. Standing upon its edges were the gates of a once-great kingdom. There was a dark beauty in the mountain and the surrounding land. Sometimes steam could be seen rising from the mountain. There were also legends about the tragedy that had taken place there and what loomed inside. There was treasure, yes, but also an evil beyond all imagining.


	2. Past Remembrances

**Here is the second chapter! Thorin's POV. Seeing Erebor again has brought back memories of Smaug's attack. He also thinks this burglar is more trouble than he's worth. The beginning chapters are more introspective/ thought-based. There will be more dialogue and action later. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this setting. They belong to Tolkien. All hail Tolkien! Annnnd...this fic is also being published on Archive of Our Own under my same username (literaturelife7). **

Thorin Oakenshield looked upon the mountain with a profound mixture of emotions: he felt the pride and love of his homeland, but at the same time the furious agony of having lost it. Most of all he felt the call of vengeance: he had to kill Smaug. He had to reclaim what was his: Erebor and the Arkenstone. He sat heavily. The Arkenstone. Words could not describe the brilliance of the gem and the light it cast. But it also cast something over the hearts of all who saw it. He had seen his grandfather all but driven mad by his treasure, and he knew a strange longing had been creeping into his heart. He knew he had an intense desire for this precious gem and to be ruler of a rich kingdom as was his right. He had tried to remain focused on the task at hand and the reason he was doing it: to reclaim his home for himself and the brave company that had followed him. But with such anger and longing it was hard to keep emotions in check; even for a strong king such as Thorin.

When they first approached the gates it all came rushing back to him: the day the wrath of Smaug the Terrible tore everything apart. It had been a day like any other. Thorin had been out in the surrounding countryside near the mountain enjoying the beauty of the day. But so very quickly everything changed. Wind whipped the branches around him; he could still remember the sickening creaking sound of the great trees. It was as if a hurricane had suddenly blown in. Then they all heard it: the roaring fury of a dragon. There were flames and crashing stone as they looked on in horror unable to move or do anything. The great red beast, a fire drake from the North, tore apart the city of Dale. Fire rained down as people ran. The screams of his victims tore through the air. Then the great beast turned and headed to his main target: Erebor. Thorin had roared in anger and charged toward his home when suddenly a flaming branch had fallen and cut off his path. He felt a searing pain on his arm; the dragon's fire had left its mark. A mark he carried still. He had wept in anguish as smoke poured from the gates of the once great kingdom: his home. He had watched the distant specks of his people fleeing down the mountain as the large red form of the dragon shoved his way into the halls of Erebor. Smaug had found what he had been looking for: vast treasure. Later Thorin had been relieved to find that his father and grandfather were alive. But it was a small comfort in the midst of so much destruction and death. He was now without a home; without a kingdom.

Thorin shook his head; it was no use dwelling on the past. He looked around and spotted Bilbo Baggins by the walls of the gate. He was messing with the giant snails again. Thorin rolled his eyes. The Hobbit was treating this as some kind of grand adventure. He had been very doubtful when Gandalf had introduced the so-called burglar. He thought it was a joke or that Gandalf had finally gone mad. But the Hobbit had proven useful thus far. Thorin only hoped that Bilbo had what it took to face down a dragon. He had a hard time believing that such a small Hobbit could outwit and defeat a fearsome beast that struck fear in the hearts of the most seasoned warriors.

That homebody from the Shire knew nothing of dragons. He knew nothing of Thorin's world: seeing his home burn, his people exiled. That day Thorin had felt the scorching heat of dragon fire: and he vowed to never forget it. He had vowed to never be helpless again like he had been on that day; just sitting there watching his people killed and his home taken. This had turned him into a fierce warrior, one that was willing to risk everything in order to reclaim what was rightfully his. And no one was going to get in his way: especially not some Hobbit from Bag End who had barely been out his front door.


	3. Grudging Respect

**This is the last introspective chapter before the action and dialogues starts taking place and it gets real! I wanted to have a moment with Bilbo and the snails because for some reason that's a part I loved in the book. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or this setting. They belong to Tolkien. All hail Tolkien! Annnnd...this fic is also being published on Archive of Our Own under my same username (literaturelife7).**

Bilbo grabbed a nearby stick and poked absentmindedly at the large snail. Normally he would be fascinated by such creatures and would try to figure out a way to bring one home to his garden: but he had too much on his mind: such as the fact that he may not be alive to make it home (snail or no snail). His stomach grumbled and he looked at the sky. It was about ten, he would be finishing second breakfast by now if he were still in the Shire. And what had he eaten today? Stale bread and some questionable meat that he dared not question as to its origins. It was times like this that he wondered why he even bothered going on this confounded adventure. He was perfectly comfortable and respectable back in the Shire. He didn't really need the money; although large amounts of treasure would be nice. He cursed the Tookish instinct that had awoken in him that night the dwarves had barged into his home. He had no business on this journey. He wasn't a great warrior like Thorin or a wizard like Gandalf. He seemed to always be getting the group into more trouble. Sure, he had proved resourceful and had gotten the group, and himself, out of a couple of scrapes. But it hadn't really been him. He fingered the golden ring in his pocket. He still felt as if he had cheated somehow. It wasn't any natural ability that had helped him (except for his abilities at riddles perhaps), but he had had to rely on an outside source for aid. The Dwarves all knew this and yet they still thought him a legitimate burglar. Except for Thorin. Bilbo looked over to where the dwarf sat brooding, as usual. Thorin had given him a hard time ever since the moment they first met. He looked upon Bilbo as a liability. Bilbo sighed. Thorin was just so narrow-minded and focused on reclaiming his home that he was willing to risk everything. Of course, Bilbo didn't really know much about such matters. He still had his cozy home waiting for him back in the Shire (if he made it back again) and had never had to fight in battles or watch his loved ones be torched by a dragon. How he gotten embroiled with the ventures of a proud, vengeful, and stubborn dwarf was beyond him. Sure, one could ascribe the blame to Gandalf, but in reality Bilbo was the one who had made the foolish decision to go along with the plan knowing that he had no experience as a burglar. And now he had to face a dragon. A dragon so fierce that warriors greatly feared him. Much braver and more experienced men had lost their lives to this beast. He, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, would be facing Smaug the Tremendous, and he had absolutely no idea what the outcome would be.

-Thorin's POV-

The sun had begun to set, casting a shadow over the edge of the large gates where the company was encamped. The moment of truth had come: the burglar would go forth to face the dragon. Thorin didn't hold out much hope, but maybe the invisible ring the hobbit had found would turn out to be of use. Despite his misgivings deep down Thorin had a sort of respect for the Hobbit's foolish bravery. Perhaps he had what it would take to succeed.

He looked at Bilbo, who was sitting nearby on a rock. The hobbit was visibly shaking; it reminded Thorin of the first time he had gone into battle and he felt a sort of empathy for the hobbit. He knew what it was like to face a terrible foe for the first time not knowing one's own ability. He shook his head, this was no time for pity. He needed a burglar, and he needed one now. There was no time for sentimental speeches when a dragon lay inside guarding one of the most precious items ever found beneath a mountain.

**Thanks for anyone making it this far! I will try to update more regularly. **


	4. Facing Fire

**So, I definitely lied about updating regularly... my bad. You know school, work *continues mumbling various excuses*. Also, I do not own the Hobbit or any of these characters. They are all Tolkien's. Huzzah for Tolkien! **

"Are you ready burglar?,"Thorin asked the hobbit.

Bilbo slowly, but not very confidently, shook his head yes. Thorin pulled him from the rock and ushered him towards the entrance. The dwarves all gave their best advice and last minute tips (which basically amounted to "don't die"). Before the hobbit could get a word in he was sent on his way down the tunnel. Thorin hoped he would come back alive; it would be impossible to find another burglar at this point in the journey. Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, he had become fond of their hobbit. While he had been disappointed initially in the lack of burlar-ism in their burglar, one had to admire the determination and the ingenuity of Bilbo. He had, after all, saved them from spiders and rescued them from the prisons of the elves (although there might have been a better way then nearly drowning them all). Maybe the Hobbit would pull through and do something heroic so as to allow them to reclaim the Lonely Mountain.

While Bilbo was in the mountain dealing with a dragon and Thorin was lost in thought, some of the dwarves decided to have a drinking contest. There was much cheering and belching among the company as Kili, Gloin, and Dwalin faced off. The contest culminated in a loud and violent fight as most dwarvish drinking contests do. After Fili smashed his bottle over Kili's head Thorin had to step in and break it up. There were many shouted threats and a lot of smacking around but eventually the dwarves settled down. There were still some angry looks floating around though.

There was a sudden roar and a trembling within the mountain. The company quickly sprang into action and quit squabbling. There's nothing like the threat of a live dragon to immediately sober one up.

"Ready your weapons, take cover!," Thorin shouted as the dwarves scrambled away from the entrance. There was a blast of light that froze Thorin's blood. His pulse quickened; he knew that light anywhere: dragon fire. In front of the flames they saw a small figure collapse on the ground in the midst of the smoke. It was Bilbo. Thorin braced himself for the roaring of dragon's wings on the air. He heard nothing; he and the other dwarves quickly rushed over to there Bilbo lay, not sure if he was dead or alive.

Pain, searing pain, as bright as dragon fire is what Bilbo felt. As he came to he felt the cool of the stones underneath him and glimpsed the waning rays of the setting sun above him. It all came rushing back to him, his confrontation with Smaug, the riddles, and his foolish parting remarks. Smaug had chased him out with a great ball of fire. He began to shake just recalling the fearsome beast laying just inside those walls, but he pushed those remarks from his mind. He slowly tried to sit up, his hair had been scorched by the fire and he had other burns on his arms and legs. Thorin gave him a hand and helped him over to an overcropping of rock near the entrance.

Thorin looked at the hobbit with admiration and wonder as he recounted his tale. He was surprised at the courage (and foolishness) Bilbo had shown in riddling with and later taunting a live dragon. He didn't know if he himself would have been that clear-headed when encountering Smaug to engage in conversation with him. He was glad the hobbit had made it out alive and in mostly one piece. He had some burns but they would heal relatively quickly.

Thorin glanced at the scar on his arm as he remembered the unbelievable searing pain of dragon fire. He had to admit that the hobbit was very strong to withstand the heat and rage of a dragon. Bilbo eventually fell asleep and Thorin went off to the side to talk with Balin.

"Well, our burglar has shown extraordinary courage and strength," Balin said. Thorin nodded.

"I'll admit, I did not think he had it in him to face a dragon, especially one as fierce as Smaug. I did not think he would make it out alive. But I'm glad he did."

Balin looked at Thorin. He could tell the dwarf had a lot on his mind. He knew that this quest, the burning desire to reclaim Erebor, was eating away at Thorin. "We'll find it soon enough," Balin said, guessing what was on Thorin's mind: the Arkenstone.

"Not soon enough."


	5. Hide and Seek

**And now the moment: the epic game of hide and seek! Also, I don't own ****_The Hobbit,_**** it's plot, or the characters: Tolkien does. But the dwarves playing hide and seek: that's all mine. **

At that point Fili and Kili came walking up. They had been off exploring the area near the mountain. Thotin felt like the two young dwarves did not appreciate the levity of the situation. They had not witnessed the destruction desolation Smaug had wreaked upon the land so many years before. They were filled with the excitement and wonder of youth, something Thorin had once felt. But that feeling had left him when he had watched his home burn. These two young dwarves had not known the type of suffering he had experienced. They had seen no real conflict and had experienced no real tragedy. But these bitter thoughts faded as he looked on his nephews. They had followed him faithfully and had given their all for the quest so far. They were very lucky to have lived so far without the darkness of the world making bitter marks upon their hearts. Thorin only hoped that they would make it through this adventure unscathed.

"Have you seen anything," Thorin inquired.

Fili and Kili shook their heads. They had seen nothing out of the ordinary. They had almost wanted to; they wanted a chance to prove themselves to their uncle. However, even if they performed a great feat Thorin may not have noticed. Fili and Kili had noticed that their uncle was acting strange. He had never been overly sentimental, but he had been much more stoic than usual lately. His mind was occupied by something. Fili and Kili knew that this quest was a huge burden for Thorin; he had a lot to prove and he also had a lot to lose. But there was something else going on inside his mind. Some obsession taking place. The two young dwarves had heard tales of Thorin's grandfather being driven crazy by his lust for treasure. They hoped that Thorin wasn't following on that dark path.

"Keep a careful watch," Thorin commanded, "I don't want any surprises. Especially now that that beast knows we are here."

"Do you think he will try to attack?," asked Kili. Even though he was apprehensive part of him wanted to see a live dragon. And perhaps he could slay him. Everyone knew of the weak spot Smaug had.

"I do not think so. But we must be ready if he does. We will end this once and for all. He will pay for what he has caused our people." With that Thorin walked off. Fili and Kili looked at each other. They had so many questions, especially about what had happened that day. But Thorin didn't like to talk about it. They would probably never really know the full story about the dreaded day that Erebor fell and Dale was turned to ash and ruin.

One question that was present in all the dwarves minds was where Gandalf had suddenly run off to. He had been with them for the large part of their journey and had saved them from an uncertain fate many times. What could be so important that the wizard would leave them alone during such a critical time? The dwarves could have no idea of the dark forces that had drawn their friend away in such a time of need. The name of the Necromancer held no particular importance in their minds; he was some far off threat while Smaug was a much more imminent one. But Gandalf was very wise and knew now the full weight of the Necromancer and his evil. He knew that he had once gone by another name, and that he had unleashed unimaginable evil once again upon the world. An evil that made a dragon and some spiders pale in comparison. The people of Middle Earth would soon know the names of Dol Guldur and Angmar. They would know of Mordor and, most of all of a dark lord, a dark lord by the name of Sauron.

To pass the anxious time Fili and Kili decided to organize some recreation to lift everyone's spirits. There is a game that young dwarves like to play this is similar to our game "hide and seek". Given their limited options for amusement Fili and Kili figured it might be the best option, even though the game is quite juvenile. Thorin was off brooding and Bilbo was asleep so it was just the rest of the dwarves. The others only agreed to participate because they were excruciatingly bored. Fili was the first seeker; he began to count as everyone scrambled to hide. Unfortunately it had been some years since most of them had played the game so they were out of practice; plus there was a shortage of good places to hide. Dori tried to hide behind a snail but it kept moving. He finally grew so frustrated he pushed it over. As he was assaulting the poor creature, its brethren rallied and slowly began an attack on Dori. Poor Bombur was so fat he began to panic he would never find a spot. Then he found a crevasse in the rock that he thought would be perfect; however he underestimated his girth and became trapped. Oin and Gloin found a spot at the same time and began to fight over it; both eventually pulling out their axes. Ori attempted to scale part of the rock but became entangled in some vines and fell. He was left suspended in the air hanging by his feet. A few of the other dwarves had given up so they sat smoking and making fun of their comrades. They soon began to sing some boisterous and bawdy songs. Kili was the most stealthy of all and had decided to crawl inside a sack. Unfortunately in the chaos the sack was bumped and went tumbling off a ledge. Fortunately it was a short drop and he was unharmed. The snails' attack on Dori had begun in earnest and he was slipping around and covered in slime trying to get away. Bilbo was, somehow, still sleeping. When Fili opened his eyes and surveyed the situation he fell on the ground laughing so hard that he could barely breath.

It was then that Thorin returned and was filled with alarm; his camp was in chaos. He at first thought the dwarves had been attacked so he came charging in with his sword. However, he didn't see Fili lying on the ground so he tripped over him and nearly impaled Balin, who stepped out of the way just in time. After tumbling head over heel he stood up and looked around. Balin was frozen in shock, Fili was crying with laughter, Kili was writhing around trying to get out of the sack below, Dori was beating up snails, Oin and Gloin were smacking each other around, Ori was hanging from a cliff, and the other dwarves were in the middle of a particular rambunctious verse of a song that cannot be repeated here. Most would expect Thorin to become angry at the stupidity of his company; instead he just shook his head and joined in the song. A moment of levity was what was needed most during these dark times. It took him back to a time when the halls of Erebor had been filled with mirth. It gave him hope that perhaps, one day, they would be filled with song and laughter again.

Somehow Bilbo managed to sleep through the entire ordeal. The dwarves promised one another never to speak of this again. That is why the most epic game of "hide and go seek" at the gates of the Lonely Mountain never made it into Bilbo's account; he missed the entire escapade.


	6. Not Home Yet

**This is the last of this tale! I hope some people have enjoyed it, I had fun writing it. I do not own these characters or the plot of ****_The Hobbit_****. They belong to JRR Tolkien! **

Later, after all the excitement had died down and the dwarves were asleep, Bilbo woke up and his hand found it's way into his pocket where he stroked the gold ring. It had a strange draw to it, a subtle one. He loved the deep golden color and the smooth coldness of it. It was if the ring was a timeless being, something wise and ancient. He, of course, knew nothing of its true origin. And the ring had not yet cast its full power upon him. It would be years later before Bilbo would feel the weight of the ring begin to take hold. And even then the extraordinary inner strength of the hobbit would allow him to resist. But the ring would be a dark legacy passed on to those he loved. It would test the strength of his closest kin. All of this darkness rested in the future of this trinket, a future which even the wisest could not yet see coming. For years this ring would simply be a treasured artifact of his adventures. It would be his nephew who would bear the full weight and terribleness of this ring. But that is a story for another time. Bilbo, not knowing any of this, drifted back to sleep.

As he slept Bilbo did not dream of dragons and trolls and goblins, but of his home. He walked down the sunny hall into the library where he sat down with a mug of tea and a delicious breakfast. The window was open and a cool spring breeze mingled with the scent of flowers from his garden. He opened the book he was reading and sunlight dotted the pages. He was so content, and yet there was a nagging deep inside him. An urge to live out an adventure instead of simply reading about it. That longing had always been inside him; it took the actions of Gandalf to bring them to light. Bilbo awoke and gazed at the stars above. He would have to face the dragon again; he knew that. But for some odd reason he wasn't scared. He realized he knew the comforts of home and had known true contentment. That was enough to give him courage.

No thoughts could be more different from the hobbit's as Smaug's. He lay slumbering inside the great hall of Erebor. Gold was piled all around him and reflected the red tint of his fearsome scales. The pure size of this beast cannot be described; one must see him to truly understand the terror. A thin veil of steam floated around him as he shifted slightly on the pile of gold that had become his bed. He was sleeping, but not peacefully like he usually did. His mind was whirling with the thought of that little thief that had dared to steal from him and to challenge him. He knew the thief, whose smell he could not identify, was outside with that blasted company of dwarves. His mind turned with thought of fire and vengeance. But deep down there was another thought, very faint. A glimmer of conscience hidden deep within him. He could leave, he could find another home. He could live off of the animals of the land and cease the terror and destruction he had caused. After all, he had not always been so "terrible" as the people liked to call him. But these brief thoughts were quickly extinguished by the thoughts of the gold laying beneath him. Any moral fiber he had possessed had been drowned out by the lust he had for gold and treasure and by the terrible deeds he had done. He knew his size meant it would be all but impossible for him to be defeated; he could do whatever he wanted. The only question was what to do with that thief that had so vexed him. He would have to make him pay, and all those with him. Especially Thorin Oakenshield. He decided he would soon pay a long overdue visit to Lake Town; a visit that would make his actions at Dale seem merciful.


End file.
